Trouble Child
by Ficbunny
Summary: Who would've thought Neal could so completely change the Burke 's life for a second time. Hurt-Deaged-Neal Fatherly-Worried-Peter
1. Chapter 1

**This is sorta a crossover with Supernatural, but only as a reason for Neal to be deaged. They won't be in any other chapters so if you don't watch or like that show please read anyway. Hope you enjoy!;)**

 **Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own White Collar or Supernatural.**

"The "Mara Rising" painting was stolen yesterday at three from the Musée Museum. The manager of the museum called us personally to retrieve it."

After that Neal pretty much tuned out.

Not that he wasn't interested, but well... His sources told him that the painting had already been stolen and the one taken now was only a forgery.

Of course Peter couldn't know that, so he just sighed and acted giddy.

Throughout the meeting he offered bits of information here and a useful tip there. Just enough that Peter would be satisfied.

Fortunately a few minutes later his cell rang. Neal ignored the glare Peter shot him and left the conference room. "Hello?"

"Hey Neal, it's Dean... Winchester."

"Oh, hey Dean. What's up?"

"We're finishing up a vamp case in Pennsylvania, but we got a tip that there might be a case up in New York. You still in the area?"

"Yeah, but my travel is a little... limited."

"Two miles. Yeah I heard, just wasn't sure if it was true."

"Unfortunately it is. What'd you need me to do?"

"Just scope out a place. Check for anything weird. If so we'll be up in about a day to handle it."

"Sure, what could go wrong? Where?"

"Thanks, North 18th Street. Old ran down building. You should be able to find it."

"Alright, bye."

"Bye."

Neal hung up the phone and came face to face with Peter, "Who was that?"

Laughing Neal replied, "An old friend."

Peter's eyes narrowed to slits, the guys always suspicious of something, but he let it go. "Turns out the guy who stole the painting wasn't very smart. Sold it a couple minutes ago. We've got guys tracking him, and you should be able to go home." Neal nodded and Peter added, "See ya Monday."

It wasn't a question, but Neal answered with a, "yeah" anyway. As Neal left the building he planned on going to check out the place. Peter said they wouldn't see each other until Monday, but really what's the likelyness that nothing will go wrong?

•~•~•~•

It only took Neal 2 minutes to find the place.

It was one of those buildings that just screamed, "I've got hundreds of dead bodies hiding in the basement," there's even beware signs posted around the property line.

Neal climbed the long past being electrical fence and dropped unto the hard ground on other side.

He approached the building which looked a lot different up close. From the other side of the fence the place was covered in rusty sheet metal and every window the place had was busted. Now though... It looked like a home you'd find in the suburbs. The place had yellow paneling and a bright red door. One of these must be a mirage, but which one?

Neal circled the place a couple times, he peeked in a few windows, hell he even scaled the place.

And of course it was as he was sitting on the roof that rain started pouring down.

He grumbled, "Great." and started his careful maneuver to the edge.

His foot slipped on one of the house's grey shingles and sent him rolling. Neal flailed his arms looking for anything to pull himself up with, but ended up rolling down the roof of the house. As he neared the edge he braced himself. He knew this one was gonna hurt like a bitch.

When he slipped to the end he didn't fall though, it was like an invisible barrier stopped him.

The suburbs house flickered and Neal found himself looking over the edge of an old factory or prison. Guess that answers the question about which one was real.

He turned in a slow circle and found the door. It was slightly ajar, and when he barely touched the knob it swung open. Okay, defiantly something strange going on here.

Click, click, click. Neal cautiously stepped through the entryway towards the strange noise. Thinking about it now that probably wasn't the best idea. Especially if you consider that he's now tied to a chair in a kitchen that was taken straight from a magazine. No, literally, there's a magazine sitting open on the bar flipped to a picture of this exact kitchen. It's actually pretty creepy.

A woman, probably in her fifties, was sitting across from him in an identical chair. When she realized he was awake she smiled and clapped her hands, "Oh you'll be perfect!"

"I don't know why you added the will. I'd like to think I already am." Neal smirked.

The woman, whoever she was rolled her eyes and puckered her lips, "We can fix that."

She stood from her seat and walked towards him. Laying a gentle hand on his forehead she started mumbling a weird chant. "You know maybe we can work something out," he fought against the rope as a weird feeling sunk into his gut, "This really isn't necessary."

"Oh darling, but it is. Besides in a couple hours you won't remember that anything was ever wrong."

Neal's eyes started flicking around rapidly. Within a few seconds he was unconscious, and one fourth his previous size.

•~•~•~•

Sam and Dean had called Neal half a dozen times with no answer.

Now as they came to a stop in front of an old factory or something they knew why. After they dropped down on the other side of the fence they found his phone. It had 18 missed calls, and surprisingly they weren't all from them. Someone named Peter Burke had been calling repeatedly for the past couple hours.

The two brothers glanced at each other before entering through the broken doors.

They had no idea what they were dealing with. An old hunter they'd worked with a few years back called, but didn't tell them much. Sammy did research on the drive here, but nothing suggested a case. If they hadn't told Neal to check it out they probably wouldn't have even came.

They moved quickly through the rooms clearing each one. Of course the last one they checked was hiding one Neal Caffery. Except the Neal Caffery who was sitting on the bar feet dangling wasn't the same as the one they'd last seen.

He was little now. Not just little like he'd been shrunk, but little like he was probably around the age of three. His big blue eyes and messy mop of brown hair gave away who it was, and the fact that the little boy in front of them was probably the cutest kid in all of history.

Dean slowly walked towards him, as if he was a scared animal on the verge of attacking, "Neal?"

Two bright orbs focused on him, "Help me... mean lady coming back."

Dean shot Sam a questioning look. Sam just shrugged in response, "I guess we have to find him somewhere to stay until we can turn him back."

Neal was practically vibrating now, "Petew."

"Huh."

"Petew and Lisbeth." His little feet finally stopped kicking, "I wan Petew an Lisbeth."

Dean tried to smile though it was forced, "Sure, we'll take you to them. Just come here." He opened his arms and the three year old launched himself into them.

They turned to leave only to bump into an old lady. "Give me the boy."

"Umm,"

"I said give. me. the boy. NOW!"

"Actually, we were just leaving so..."

Dean tried to walk around but the lady's hand shot out and clamped down on his arm.

Instantly Sam chopped it off without thinking about little Neal, or how watching someone's arm get chopped off might traumatize the kid.

The boy started making a high pitch wheezing sound and tucked his face against Dean's neck. As Dean took care of Neal, Sam prepared to fight. He held the machete in front of him, but the old lady didn't attack.

Actually, she was crying. "I understand you have to take him. They always leave, but you need to know a few things first. Usually they don't remember anything, not even their name. For some reason he's different. He doesn't remember much, just his name and a Peter and Elizabeth... and the fact that I was the one who did this to him. The spell usually wears off in about a year, but who knows, maybe the effects will be permanent."

"So... You're just going to let us take him?"

"Yes, it's for the best. Also you should know he's cursed."

"Why in God's name would you curse him if he was going to be your son."

"Oh I wasn't planning on it until you two showed up, Accipe, senes et iuuenes. Maledicat illum tenebris futurum."

Neither Sam or Dean knew if the curse would take because before she was finished she was disintegrating into red ash. Both the boys had what the hell faces. Sammy was the one who suggested what they do with the small boy next.

•~•~•~•

Peter was starting to worry.

He'd tried calling Neal all of 100 times with no answer.

He thought back to the office. Old friends usually didn't turn out good for Neal or Peter. He just hoped he hadn't gotten himself killed. Sure he was a felon and kept Peter always looking over his shoulder, but he was a challenge and Peter loved challenges. Of course that's kinda ironic considering the challenge that was about to walk through Burke's front door. He was watching the game in his and Elizabeth's bedroom when he heard a knock. Elizabeth's voice quickly followed, "Hun, can you get that please."

"Yeah, sure thing hun." So Peter did, and as he pulled open the door he came face to face with Sam Winchester. Of course he didn't know that. What he saw was a ridiculously tall man with too long hair, in his opinion, and a rough around the edges appearance. His hand slid unconsciously to where he always kept his gun.

"Hello, are you Peter Burke?"

Peter cautiously answered, "Yeah, but who are you?"

"Sam Win...ters. Sam Winters. I'm here about Neal Caffery. I believe you know him."

Worry wrapped itself around Peter. He knew after Neal didn't answer his phone he should have checked on him, "What's happened."

Sam turned and made a motion to who Peter suspected was his partner and led Peter inside towards the couch, "I believe you should sit down." Peter did and watched as another man a little shorter than the first, Dean in case you didn't get that, walked in keeping something hidden behind his back. The tall one turned towards his partner and knelt down, "Neal? You remember Peter don't you?"

Peter was confused until an unmistakable mop of brown waves stuck out from behind the man's legs. He watched as little Neal's blue eyes lit up with recognition. The boy clumsily ambled over to Peter, and as those tiny hands wrapped themselves around Peter's neck he knew this wasn't a joke. This was Neal, his Neal, "God, what have you gotten yourself into."

The little boy worked himself as close to Peter as possible without actually fusing them together.

"Hey hun who was... Neal?" The little boy looked at her and smiled a huge grin, but never broke his hold of Peter, or maybe Peter never broke his hold of Neal. Either way they stayed stuck together like that for the rest of the night.

Elizabeth unsurprisingly took the news of Neal being deaged great.

Peter also took it great, though that was a little more unexpected.

Peter likes things to have a natural order. Everything has its place and time, and it all makes logical sense. All except Neal Caffery. Peter always suspected he was capable of the impossible. This three year old confirmed his beliefs and would surely turn his world upside down and inside out. Peter didn't really think he'd mind though.

The men, Sam and Dean, who brought Neal explained how they were checking out an old building, in hopes of renovating it, when they found Neal. The boy kept repeating Peter and Elizabeth's names. Eventually Dean, the older, shorter one, remembered he'd had drinks with a Neal Caffery just a year ago in this same town. He was a CI for a Peter Burke. Fortunately they found him and as they say, the rest is history.

As the men were leaving Dean turned, looked Peter right in the eye, and said with all seriousness, "Protect him."

Peter nodded and later as he laid in bed, small Neal curled between him and Elizabeth, he answered, "Always."

 **So I hoped everyone who read this thought it was as cUte as I did. I'm hoping to post another chapter soon, but with school and basketball it might be awhile. Anyway thanks for reading, and plz write a review.**

 **Also if you have any ideas of ways to whump poor little Neal, tell me and I'll try to use them. Please nothing that will take a long time to heal though. :)**


	2. Quarters

**Sorry it took me so long to update. I'd really hoped I could be quicker, but things kept getting in the way. Anyway, thanks for all the amazing reviews. I'm so glad you guys liked the use of Sam and Dean, I was worried using them. Resident of Wonderland I totally agree, but I needed some of that stuff to be said without using more Sam and Dean. Guest wonderful idea;) I'll defiantly use it in a future chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar :(**

Peter was startled awake when he felt a pressure on his chest.

He peeled open his eyes and jumped when he saw a dark figure sitting on him.

In his defense he wasn't used to this yet, and he did just wake up, so when he slid his hand toward the gun he always keeps under his mattress he really didn't expect to see a blinding white smile.

He stared groggily at the figure for way longer than he should of had to before he connected the dots. Messy waves, check, blue eyes, check, Cheshire grin, check, which could only mean, "Neal?"

Little fingers wrapped around his hand and tugged.

Peter groaned and flicked on the lamp. "What's wrong?"

The boy smiled and jumped off the bed. When Peter sat up he ran over to the door frame and smiled again. Peter had the feeling of a mouse being lured into a trap, but got out of bed to follow anyway.

Neal walked through the doorway and over to the stairs. He stared at them for a second before lifting his foot to go down. Peter, seeing all the ways that could end badly, lifted him into the air, "Sorry buddy, no stairs for you."

The small boy huffed, but didn't say anything as Peter carried him down the stairs.

Once they reached the bottom Peter sat Neal down. A grin spread across the boys face as he ran into the kitchen with Peter on his tail.

Neal ran up to the fridge and jumped for the handle. When he came a couple inches short he tried again.

Peter stood watching until he guessed, "You're hungry."

Even three year old Caffery had mastered the no dip Sherlock look.

"Well, what do you want?" The small con made an adorable thinking face before he shrugged. Peter sighed, "You know this might be easier for the both of us if you would talk."

The boy hadn't said a single word since Sam and Dean left last night. Of course if it had been Neal... big Neal... then Peter would have praised the Lord. However, with small Neal... It was impossible to figure out what he wanted, and Peter had only been with him for 10 hours.

Granted Peter was awful with children, Neal was always the one who managed to make them laugh and giggle until they were no longer disturbing him or any other agents. Of course that wasn't much help now that Neal was the child.

He sighed again and dug through the fridge. "How about," he laughed to himself, "deviled ham?"

He turned to watch Neal's reaction, but he was no longer on the floor.

Peter's eyes slowly rose to meet shockingly blue ones. Somehow Neal had managed to climb up the counters, and was sitting on a shelf across from where Peter stood.

"How the hell..." He left the fridge open as he darted across the kitchen to Neal's perch.

He wrapped his hands around Neal's waist and gently lowered him back to the floor, "Let's not do that again. Okay, Neal?"

Little Caffery just cocked his head to the side and shrugged. Peter sighed and hung his head. No way was he going to make it through this and remain sane.

Peter looked back up, but once again Neal was gone. Peter ran a rough hand over his face and mumbled, "What did I do to deserve this at 3:00 in the morning."

He turned and began his search swinging the fridge shut on his way through.

He looked around while whisper yelling Neal's name.

After he'd searched the living room he walked back to the kitchen and did a 360°.

Just then Satchmo jumped on the door.

Peter quickly let the dog in, "How you get out... oh God."

He grabbed his jacket and ran out the door. "Neal? Neal! Come on buddy aren't you hungry."

Peter saw a flash of the blue pajamas El had bought for her niece right before a tiny three year old barreled into his leg.

As he packed Caffery back into the house he asked, "So you can't reach to open the fridge, but the door is no problem?"

He cast a glance to the boy and was met with a blinding smile. "Yeah, okay so what do you want."

Neal scrunched his face up in thought before deciding, "Pantakes."

It was adorable. There was simply no other way to put it.

Peter nodded and , this time not taking any chances, put Neal on his shoulders.

Neal squealed and giggled as Peter packed him around and made pancakes.

Peter thought maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be as chaotic as he thought. Of course at that time El walked in to the sight of Neal with syrup all over his face and hands. Peter wasn't much better, plus there was the flour that coated the kitchen like a layer of dust. She squinted her eyes, was that a pancake on the ceiling, no if it was she defiantly did not want to know about it.

"Hey boys. What are you doing?" Peter guiltily raised his eyes to meet hers and shrugged. Neal however, ever the conman, smiled innocently and hopped off his stool.

Both the Burke's watched in curiosity as he pulled something out of a drawer.

He revealed a pancake that had chocolate chips in the shape of a heart and brought it to Elizabeth. As he rocked back on his heels he said, "Petew membered you like pantakes, so hes made you a secial won."

Elizabeth laughed and fluffed the boy's hair. She gave Peter a kiss and asked, "I've got to go in for work you think you can handle this for today?"

"Of course, umm... how long are you going to be gone?"

El laughed and replied, "A couple hours. Maybe you guys can go to the store. He's gonna need some things."

"Sure, can you make a list."

She nodded and looked to their feet, "Where's Neal?"

Peter instantly groaned and mumbled, "Not again."

His search began as Elizabeth got ready for work. "Neal, come on out. I'll give you," Peter looked around for something a three year old would like, "this car."

Peter didn't really think it would work. This was Neal Caffery they were talking about he didn't really seem like a hot wheels kinda guy, but sure enough here came Neal rolling out from under the couch. Peter just shook his head and handed the small car to Neal who smiled and plopped on the floor.

Peter, satisfied that Neal would stay put, went to clean up the kitchen.

He listened to Neal's vroom vroom sounds as he scraped pancake batter from impossible places.

Anytime the sounds faded he'd check to make sure Neal was still sitting in the living room floor.

Peter finished cleaning the kitchen at the same time that Elizabeth came down ready to head to work. She handed Peter the list and gave him a peck on the lips, "Bye hun. I laid out clothes for Neal on the bed."

He nodded, "Thanks hun."

She gave Caffery a kiss on the cheek on her way out. When she did a huge grin spread across his face, "Bye bye, Lisbeth."

You know how earlier Peter wished Neal would talk more. Yeah he took that back.

The kid didn't know how to hold his mouth shut. Overall, if it wasn't for the constant noise, Peter didn't mind that much. The way Neal slurred his words together was, he'd said before and he's gonna say it again, adorable.

So when Peter was brushing his teeth and Neal's incoherent mumblings stopped he quickly rinsed his mouth and darted back to his bedroom, where he'd left Neal. He found him laying on his stomach playing with the car Peter had given him earlier, but now it was no longer a car.

A few random pieces were rolling around the bed, but overall the former car looked a lot better.

When Peter gave it to Neal it was old and beat up. Something Peter played with as a kid and had been pulled out of the attic by who knows who.

Now though Neal had managed to bend and twist the metal to form the shape of a dog. The small dog was impossibly shiny and smooth. When Neal noticed Peter enter he smiled and held up the dog, "Doggy! Ruff ruff!"

Peter walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, "That's pretty good Neal who taught you how to do that?"

Confusion flashed over little Neal's feature, then Caffery's mask dropped into place. Even as a toddler he wasn't willing to trust Peter.

Peter nodded and picked up the small parts, unwilling to look at the small boy.

Neal tapped him on the shoulder and held the dog out to him, "For you... iss Sathhh... Sathhh..." His jaw tightened, "Sathh... its Mo" He nodded satisfied with himself for coming up with something he could pronounce.

Peter laughed and ruffled Neal's hair, "Alright we've got to get you ready." He took the metal dog and placed it on his nightstand.

He looked at the clothes El had laid out for Neal and couldn't help but chuckle. It was a pair of jeans that had seen better days and a blue shirt that had Thomas the Tank Engine on it. The small tennis shoes were just as bad as the jeans. Neal, big Neal, wouldn't be caught dead in it, and something told Peter little Neal wasn't gonna like it too much either.

•~•~•~•

Peter was right.

Neal hadn't said a word since he'd been put in the clothes.

On the drive to the store he'd sat in the back seat with his arms crossed over his chest. The pants and shoes fit well, the shirt however was too big. It had hung off his slim form and come to his knees. Peter had ended up tucking in the grumpy three year old's shirt, which only worsened his mood.

Now Peter was walking up and down aisles holding Neal's hand. The little boy's face was set in a scowl as he reluctantly followed.

So, when Peter let go to open up the freezer and get milk, it really shouldn't have surprised him to look down and not find Neal.

Peter had a flash back to their first case together, Neal, cigar in mouth, saying, "Maybe I'm not trying hard enough." Peter always knew if Neal hadn't wanted caught he wouldn't have been, but now seeing how easy it was for the clumsy three year old to disappear, he realized just how right he was.

Three year old, right, he'd just lost a three year old in a New York grocery store. Yeah, worst father ever.

He abandoned the cart and ran down the aisle looking for Neal.

When he found him he was standing towards the front talking to a woman, probably in her thirties.

He realized with a groan that the woman was giving Neal something. He quickly ran up and apologized. He turned to Neal, "Give it here."

A quarter was dropped in his hand by the boy and Peter turned back to the woman. He handed her the quarter, "I'm so sorry about that."

She smiled and laughed it off, "I understand." she chuckled, "I think you have your hands full."

Confused Peter asked, "What makes you say that?" "Well, first I gave him five quarters," Peter groaned he'd never even considered small Neal being able to do that, "Secondly," She pointed over his shoulder. Peter turned and watched in amazement as a man dropped a quarter in Neal's hand.

Neal looked up at Peter, waved, and took off around the corner.

Peter took off after him leaving behind the woman. When he found him Neal was on his tiptoes cranking one of those penny pressers, but this time it was with quarters.

Neal watched in fascination as a quarter dropped into the cup. His small hands scooped it up and he turned happily to show Peter.

Peter wasn't happy though, "Give me the quarter Neal." Neal's eyes narrowed and he shook his head no. Peter sighed, "Neal you can't take money from people, it's not right. Give me the quarter."

Peter, fully expecting Neal to run, took a step forward. He really must have misread the situation though because instead of shooting off, Neal popped the flattened quarter in his mouth and swallowed.

Peter's eyes widened, "Please tell me you didn't just swallow that."

Neal responded with a cough. "Oh God!" Peter quickly scooped up Neal and rushed to the car.

He was peeling out of the parking lot and to the hospital before anyone even registered that something had happened.

As he hit the breaks in front of the hospital he glanced at the red faced child. Neal hadn't stopped coughing the whole drive.

Peter carried Neal into the emergency room and straight to the desk.

A bored nurse looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of a small child, "Right this way sir."

Peter jogged into a room where a doctor was waiting. The doctor took Neal while asking, "What's he choking on."

Peter cleared his throat before he answered, "A uh quarter."

The doctor looked at Peter and shook his head.

A couple minutes later Peter and Neal were sitting side by side in uncomfortable chairs.

Neal was happily flipping a certain pressed quarter between his fingers, while Peter grumpily filled out paperwork.

 **So tell me what you think... I really hope I can update ok n, but I honestly have no clue.**


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